It was July the 19th, and the heat was oppressive. The sun beat down relentlessly, making the air thick and heavy. Sweat trickled down my back as I stepped out of my car, my shirt sticking to my skin. Despite the sweltering heat, I was determined to visit my grandmother.
As I approached her house, I could smell the familiar scent of furniture polish and something baking, probably one of her famous fruit loaves. The front door opened, and my grandmother peered out, her eyes crinkling with warmth. She wore a low-cut dress, and her ample cleavage was impossible to ignore. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore a flowery apron that accentuated her curves.
“Alan, love! You’re here!” she exclaimed, her voice slightly shaky but full of affection. “Come in, come in! Don’t just stand there letting all the cool out.” She stepped aside, and I entered the dimly lit living room, the old rotating fan labouring to circulate the stifling air.
“Hey Gran,” I said, giving her a warm hug. Her body felt soft and comforting, and she smelled of soap and flour, just like home. “I brought your favorite biscuits.”
“Oh, you’re a gem, you are,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with delight as she spotted the bag of groceries. “And the biscuits! You know me too well.”
I watched her bustle about the kitchen, her movements slow but purposeful. Her low-cut dress revealed the impressive swell of her breasts, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at her cleavage. The sight of her was unexpectedly arousing, and I found myself imagining what it would be like to run my hands over her ample curves.
As the afternoon wore on, the temperature outside rose, and the sound of distant thunder rumbled in the distance. My grandmother suggested I stay the night, and as she went to fetch a spare nightgown for me, I couldn’t help but admire the way her hips swayed beneath her apron.
Later that evening, as the storm raged outside, I lay in bed, my thoughts consumed by the alluring sight of my grandmother. The rain pelted against the windows, and I could hear her moving around in the next room. I wondered if she was still wearing that low-cut dress, her breasts spilling over the top, or if she had changed into something more comfortable. Why was I thinking about her in that way she was my Granny.
The storm continued through the night, and I found myself tossing and turning, I got out of bed in just my boxers and went to go get a glass of milk. Gran was still awake when I past her room I had to see if she was ok. I knocked on her bedroom door, “come in sweetheart.”
I pushed the door open tentatively, a sliver of light from the bedside lamp illuminating the room. Gran was propped up against a stack of pillows, a thick book resting open on her chest. She had changed out of her dress, as I had wondered, but the effect was perhaps even more disarming. She wore a silk nightgown, a rich burgundy colour that clung to her curves, the fabric shimmering subtly in the dim light. It was cut even lower than the dress, if that was possible, and her breasts, unfettered by a bra, seemed to swell even more impressively, spilling over the delicate lace trim.
“Oh, Alan, love,” she said, her voice soft with sleep but still warm. She pushed her reading glasses up onto her forehead, her eyes still sparkling despite the late hour. “Couldn’t sleep, sweetheart? Is the storm keeping you up?”
“Something like that, Gran,” I mumbled, stepping further into the room. The air in her room was different, warmer, imbued with her unique scent – a mix of lavender, old paper, and something distinctly feminine. The rotating fan from the living room wasn’t much use here, but it wasn’t as stifling as the main parts of the house. “I was just going to get a glass of milk.”
She patted the edge of her bed beside her as she stared at me in just my boxers. “Come sit for a moment. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. That thunder really is something, isn’t it?”
Instead I got in her bed right next to her. My warm legs touched her old legs. The bed creaked a little and I joked, “oh Gran this bed, have you warn out the springs haha joke nan. I suppose you are too old for you know that now and too old for action.”
“Oh, Alan, you cheeky monkey!” she retorted, a warm, soft chuckle rumbling in her chest. It was the sound of Gran, comforting and familiar, like the scent of her baking. She didn’t look offended, or even particularly surprised by my clumsy attempt at a joke. Instead, she gently patted her hand on the blanket beside her, near my leg. “Too old for action, am I?” she repeated, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’d be surprised what an old woman can still get up to, dear. I may be in my eighties, but I’ve still got plenty of life in me! Like staying up reading during a thunderstorm, for instance.”
I felt a flush creep up my neck. My joke had fallen flat, or at least, not landed the way I’d intended. I hadn’t meant it in a grown-up way, just a silly comment about her old bed. My legs, still warm from being under the covers, felt a little awkward in the sudden proximity. I shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot among the pillows, and as I did, my hand slipped, brushing lightly against her breast.
“Shit. Do you want me to go, Gran?” I quickly asked, pulling my hand back as if I’d touched a hot stove. I looked at her face, trying to read her expression in the dim light. Her eyes, usually so bright and crinkly with warmth, seemed a little more reserved now, averted slightly. “I mean, out of your bed. You look… well, a little surprised. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to touch your boob.”
“Sweetie, it’s just awful old boob you brushed past, not really touched,” she said as her face looked red. “Don’t worry I am not going to tell your mum and embarrass you.”
My face felt like it was on fire. I quickly pulled my hand away, as if her breast was suddenly a hot coal. “Right, yeah, no, I know, Gran. I just… I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Wait don’t call them awful, they look good to me, don’t hate me for saying that but you got… a banging pair of tits.”
I stammered, trying to regain my composure. “I mean, they look nice. Not awful. I’m sorry, Gran. I didn’t mean to offend you.” I could feel my heart racing, a mix of embarrassment and a strange, unexpected excitement.
Gran sighed, a soft, almost wistful sound. “It’s alright, Alan. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just… well, it’s been a long time since anyone’s complimented my… assets.” She hesitated for a moment, then looked me straight in the eye. “But I must admit, it’s nice to hear that someone still finds me attractive, even at my age.”
I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of guilt and confusion. “Gran, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I don’t know, I guess I was just caught off guard by how you look in that nightgown. You’re a very beautiful woman. Fuck, I shouldn’t be talking about your… Tits sorry.”
“Oh, Alan, goodness gracious!” Gran gasped, her earlier amused expression replaced by a flush that spread from her chest up to her cheeks, making her usually pale skin glow crimson in the dim light. She pulled her silk nightgown a little tighter around her, though it did little to conceal her ample figure. Her eyes, wide with a mix of shock and something else I couldn’t quite decipher, darted away from mine, fixing on a distant point on the wall. “Such language, sweetheart! And… and what a thing to say to your old Gran!”
My face felt like it was on fire, reaching a scorching temperature hotter than any July sun. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. What was wrong with me? Why would I say something like that to my grandmother? It was like a thought had just jumped out of my head without my permission, completely unfiltered and utterly mortifying. I stammered, trying to find words, any words, to claw back some semblance of normalcy, but my tongue felt thick and useless.
“Gran, I… I didn’t mean… I’m so, so sorry,” I mumbled, wishing I could disappear. My heart was thumping against my ribs like a trapped bird, a frantic, wild beat that made my ears ring. The air in the room, already warm, seemed to thicken with unspoken things, with my embarrassment and her… her reaction.
She let out a soft, shaky sigh, still not meeting my gaze. “It’s quite alright, Alan. I… I understand.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she cleared her throat, a nervous little sound. “It’s just… well, it’s not something one hears every day, is it?” A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of her lips, quickly vanishing as if she regretted it. “But thank you, dear. It… it was a very kind thing to say, in its own way. Even if it was a bit… startling. Do you… do you wanna… touch them.”
I reached out and squeezed her left breast in her nightgown. I pulled on the neckline to free one of her big saggy boobs. I started to suck on it as I placed her hand on my hard cock in my boxers.
She gasped, a sharp, startled sound that seemed to fill the room. Her hand moved to my head, her fingers tangling in my hair as she held me close. I could feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Oh, Alan, dear,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “That feels so good. I never thought… I never thought I would feel like this again.” She put a hand inside my boxers, “oh you have a beautiful young cock too. I haven’t had dick in so many years.”
“Get your knickers of Nan if you want it,” I moaned around her tit.
“Ooh, you naughty boy,” Gran gasped, her voice a mix of pleasure and surprise. She slid her big granny knickers off and threw them out of the bed and I got on top of her. “Sweetie, you… you really going to do this. I am a little dry down there it as been a very long time.”
I spat on my hand and lube my dick up. I then slid it up and down her old slit and then… Sank it inside of her.
“Ahhh, Alan! ” she moaned, “Fuck. Oh, you’re so big for me.”
Her hands clutched at my shoulders, digging her nails in as she arched her back. I kept fucking her, loving how her old cunt pulsed around my cock. The bed squeaked loudly as I pumped my dick in and out of her old lovely twat.
“Oh, Alan, dear, that feels so good!” she moaned, her voice husky with pleasure. “I haven’t felt this in years, I feel like a young girl again!” She stared between her legs watching my thick hard cock plough her old pussy. “Ahh yes, like that Alan… ooh yes.”
“Your pussy feels good for a GILF,” I started to really go to town on her old pussy.
“Y-you cheeky…. ahhh young bugger, I love watching… your cock slide in and out… ahhh of me,” she moaned as I put my hands under her as and really started to slam it in her. My ball slapping against her clit.
I grunted as I slammed my cock deep into Gran’s old cunt, her juices dripping down my shaft as I fucked her hard and fast. Her tits bounced with each powerful thrust, and I couldn’t resist leaning down to suck on a nipple, my tongue swirling around the hard nub.
“Oh, Alan! Yes, just like that!” Gran moaned, her hands grasping at my hair as she pulled me closer to her heaving chest. “Your tongue feels so good on my nipples, sweetie.” I moaned around her tit, the taste of her skin and the feel of her soft flesh driving me wild.
I increased the pace, my hips slapping against hers with each deep, powerful thrust. Gran’s moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and lust that only grew louder and more urgent with each passing moment. I could feel her old pussy starting to squeeze me tighter, her inner walls fluttering around my cock as she approached her climax.
“Ahhh, Alan, I’m going to… ahhhh!” she cried out, her voice rising to a crescendo as her body tensed and shook beneath me. I could feel her cunt clenching around me, milking my cock for all it was worth as she came hard, her juices gushing out around my shaft.
I grunted, my own climax building rapidly as I felt her pussy convulsing around me. With one final, deep thrust, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and came with a guttural moan, my seed spurting deep into her old womb.
I collapsed on top of Gran, my weight pressing her into the mattress. I could feel her heart still racing beneath my chest, her breathing coming in ragged gasps as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands were still tangled in my hair, and I could feel her fingers trembling slightly as she held me close.
“Well, that was certainly a surprise,” she said, her voice soft and husky from exertion. “I never thought I’d be having sex with my own grandson, but… I have to admit, it felt rather nice.”
I chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “Glad you enjoyed it, Gran.”
I lifted myself off of Gran, my softening cock slipping free of her old pussy with a wet pop. I lay beside her, feeling the heat of our bodies mingling under the covers. My chest was still heaving with exertion, and I could hear the sound of her own ragged breathing in the silence.
I rolled onto my side, facing Gran, and propped my head up on my hand. The room was quiet, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder outside and our own breathing. I couldn’t help but steal glances at her, taking in the sight of her flushed skin, her chest rising and falling with each breath, and the satisfied look on her face.
“So, that was quite the surprise, wasn’t it?” I said, breaking the silence. “I mean, I never thought I’d end up in bed with my own grandmother.” Gran let out a soft laugh, a sound that seemed to vibrate through her whole body.
“Oh, Alan, you always were one for surprises. Even if they weren’t exactly what I expected.” She reached out, her hand brushing against my cheek in a gentle caress. “But I must say, I’m glad it happened. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… desired like that. You should come here every weekend.”
I laughed, a low, rumbling sound. “Every weekend, huh? I think Mum might have something to say about that.” Gran just winked at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh, don’t worry about her,” she said, her voice a playful whisper. “I’ll make sure she never finds out. Our little secret, just like this.”